See You Around

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"What are you looking at?"

She looked up at me,

Distracted. Swimming

Upstream in her personal

River of her thoughts 

To the spot on the bank

Upon which I stood.

"Nothing, just lost

In thought," she gave 

Me a small smile.

"What are you thinking

About?" I had been here

For over an hour, trying

To engage her in some

Sort of conversation.

"Nothing of importance,"

She said after a long bout

Of silence. 

I wanted to scream,

I wanted to shout,

I wanted to take her

By her shoulders and

Shake her, instead 

I said "Oh."

She was looking out

Of the window again,

And I felt dismissed.

"Well, I have some 

Errands to run, so

I will see you around,"

I said making my way

To the door.

"See you around,"

She said without looking.

I never saw her around,

As time passed, it was something 

That didn't impact on me.

Somehow when I closed 

The door that last time,

I closed it for good.

Time passes and people

Grow apart and that's life.

Even the people you thought

Would be in your life forever

They, too, fade away.


Submitted to imaginary garden with real toads and dVerse Poets

Wonder Land

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The land was
A mix of wintery
Wonder land and
Desolate patch of
Hinterland.

I watched it pass
By as I rode on
A bus to somewhere
Else.

I touched the window,
Marveling at the
Coolness but happy
With not having to
Face it yet.

"Where you headed?"
The old lady sitting
Across the aisle asked,
Either making conversation
Or giving into her curiosity.

"Nowhere in particular,
Anywhere that is not
Where I was," I answered.

"Then how do you know
When you reach where
You going?" she asked.

"I figure I will just know,
Right here," I patted the
Place over my heart.
"I will just know."

She nodded her head
Then returned her attention
To the novel she was reading.
Her curiosity sated.

I didn't tell her the whole
Truth. I didn't tell the
Old woman that I was
Headed for a warm place
Where I can rest my head
And dream of you no more.

A place where we dreamt
Of going, but never did.
In the end, I was the only
One going because you
Chose a different type
Of life, a different type of
Woman.

I was headed to a place
Where I could let the
Memories of you fade
Like old pictures in
An album I stopped
Flipping through.

Then again,
I have a feeling she,
The old lady, already
Knew the truth. She
Was too polite to ask
For it.

I looked out of
The window, watching
The desolate, wintery
Wonderland pass by.



Submitted to imaginary garden with real toads and dVerse Poets

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Soon

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The coffee was black,

Darker than the night sky

And as bitter as 

A broken heart.

My heart was broken,

Shards still embedded 

In my chest and

I refused to remove them.

Somehow, the pain

Had become a knowing

Companion, a necessary

Friend who would listen

As I told my tale over

And over again.

When others grew tired

Of my ranting and raving

The pain would listen,

But soon even that

Started to fade into 

A dull ache.

So with a cup of

Black, bitter coffee

And a broken heart

On the mend, I sat

At my typewriter 

And started to 

Release the last of 

My pain.

With each strike

Of the key, 

The pain became one

With the words,

With the paper,

With everything

That was outside of me.

With each strike

Of the key,

I let the pain go,

Saying fairwell

To a friend who

Knew me well.

Soon the cup

Will be empty,

Soon my heart

Will be healed,

Soon the pain

Will be a distant memory,

And soon life

Will return to the

Thing we call normal.


Submitted to Hyde Park Poetry's Thursday Poets Rally.

Untitled

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He sat across
From me,
Cigarette in hand,
Blowing out
Circular puffs of smoke.

He wanted to tell me
Something, something
Only he would find
Amusing, something
He was itching to tell.

But he was waiting
For an opening
An appropriate segue
That would transition
Into his thread of thought.

I never gave him
What he desired,
Choosing to ignore
All his cues
For conversation domination.

With narrowed eyes,
He watched me
Take the last swig
Of my whiskey,
Then pull out my share
Of the bill.

"You know I still love you."
My hand froze
And through beer goggled eyes,
Or is it whiskey goggled eyes,
I looked at him.

In the year
That we were together,
He told me he loved me
Once, three times
If you counted when
He was drunk.

I placed the money
On the table
And stood.

"Too late, baby,
Too late because
I've already stopped
Loving you."

I walked out of the bar,
Walked away from him,
And walked into
My happiness.
A dark cloud now gone.

Lover's Goodbye

I just broke up with someone last Friday and the funny thing is, I'm the one that feels bad and hurting. I know it is a relationship that won't go anywhere, but I feel a little confused, anxious, basically a cocktail of emotions.

I believe I'm good at pushing people away, but for some strange reason I can't push this person away. I'm hoping that this time around, I will succeed through inner strength to get through this breakup.

Anyway, below is a poem which after writing it gave me a moment of peace.

Lover's Goodbye

I love you,
Did you know that?
I probably told you
Once or twice.

You see the attraction
Grew in a nest
Of disdain;
And before I knew it,
Your presence overwhelmed me.
Don't worry,
I'm not the swooning type.

I think we're the type
Of people
Whose attraction is electric.
Kissing you,
Loving you,
Feeling you,
Our intensity too much
To keep us together.
Too much
To keep us apart.

I love you,
But I'm leaving you.
We're like oil and vinigar,
No matter how long
Or how much
You mix us
We still end up
Separating.

Do you love me?
I don't think so,
You never said so.
What you did say
Was that you promised yourself
Never to fall in love.

So I accept
This as my truth,
Your truth,
Our truth.
You will never love me,
I will always love you.

Our journey together
Has come to an end
And I hope the one
Who ends up with you
Loves you as much as
Or more than
I ever loved you.
Good journey.
Good Life.

Sometimes
Love is not enough.

This Messy Thing

There is this song by India.Arie, it starts with "I am ready for love... I made a cd of the love songs I had on cds and that was the first song on it.

Right now, I question if I am ready for love. Or if I am capable of lof love. Hell, what is love? Do I want it? Do I need it? Can I have both love and a career? If I can't have both, which one should I give up?

I'm confused at an age when I'm suppose to get it. I had a suite-mate who was at the end of a relationship with her boyfriend. She didn't know it, but he knew it. It was messy in my estimation, and she asked me what was going on, why was he not calling her back. It was clear as day and she didn't get it. How do you convince someone that the other person isn't into them anymore. I guess I was mortally afraid of being so blinded by this messy thing call love.

I'm babbling, so I'm going to stop here. If you have any comments on this messy thing called love, post them.